Your Leg, My Arm
by bleachlover1999
Summary: 'Kuroo and Kenma shared. It was a fact of life. A sometimes strange fact if you think about the extent that statement goes to, but a fact nonetheless'. In which Nekoma realizes what exactly that entails. A bit of KuroKen, if you squint.


Your Legs, My Arms

Kuroo and Kenma shared. It was a fact of life. A sometimes strange fact if you think about the extent that statement goes to, but a fact nonetheless. And by now, their friends were so used to their exchanges that they don't even bat an eye.

Not that they hadn't stared the first few times, though.

()()()()()()()()()()()()()()

It started out simple enough, just a casual sentence and an absentminded movement. A few years ago, it might've even been brushed off as something cute little kids did, but they were in high school, so the team stared. Hard.

"... Dude... That was an indirect kiss, y'know."

Yaku delivered a solid thump to the back of Yamamoto's head. Kuroo paid them no mind and instead handed the blue plastic water bottle back to Kenma, who was playing the role of a quiet first-year and took the bottle without glancing up from his iPhone.

()()()()()()()()()()()()()()

Sharing clothes had also been normal enough, since everyone knew that they were childhood friends and had probably done it thousand of times before. So nobody had said anything when Kenma showed up in Kuroo's hoodie (the sleeves covered his hands, and it reached his thighs), or when Kuroo was seen tugging off Kenma's well-known (and hideous) Spongebob socks.

("But don't couples do that? I mean, my sister wears her boyfriend's shirt around the house sometimes - "

"Yamamoto, shut up, or I swear to god that I'll shove your pants down your throat."

"Yes, mom..."

"What was that?"

"Nothing, Yaku-san."

"That's what I thought.")

What wasn't normal, however, was seeing Kenma in bright yellow boxers after practice. More specifically, the bright yellow boxers that Kuroo had worn a few days ago and got mercilessly teased about. (The teasing stopped after a few nice threats to double - or triple, in Yamamoto's case - their training menus.)

"That's just fucking creepy, man."

Yaku let out a long-suffering sigh as he dusted off his hands. He ignored Yamamato, who was slumped against the lockers. "He never learns..."

(Kuroo and Kenma turned a blind eye to the act of violence. The younger teen shot Kuroo a sullen look as he tugged on his sweats.

"I told you that they were ugly."

"Hey, you're the one wearing them, aren't you?"

"Only because you took mine."

"Aw, c'mon... how are they worse than your socks?"

"There's nothing wrong with Spongebob."

"Alright, alright. No one's dissing the sponge. Or the socks. Sheesh.")

()()()()()()()()()()

It was in passing that Yamamoto had mentioned it. Just a thought after the boxers incident, really.

"They're practically like a couple," Yamamoto declared through a mouthful of his lunch (Kai leaned far away to avoid the disgusting spray of eggs and bacon). "Next thing you know, they'll be sharing homemade lunch."

Yaku admonished him for his abominable table manners with a well-placed punch to the gut. But as it turned out, Yamamoto WAS right.

"Something wrong, Kenma?" Yaku asked, watching Kenma pause after lifting the lid of his lunchbox. The team was on the rooftop, for the first time having lunch with everyone INCLUDING their captain and setter, who always seem to disappear every time the lunch bell rang.

"... No." The disgusted expression on the setter's face contradicted his statement.

The rest of the team was puzzled - Kenma never really showed anything other than disinterest and neutrality- but Kuroo showed up at that moment with his usual impeccable timing.

"Pink with yellow polka dots?" Yamamoto asked incredulously, pointing at Kuroo's lunchbox.

The captain rolled his eyes and flopped down next to Kenma. "Mom," He grunted. He then caught sight of his partly-blond friend, who still hadn't moved from his scrutinization of his lunch. "What, again?"

Kenma didn't say anything, only huffing as he shoved the box towards Kuroo. The dark-haired teen took it and handed his to Kenma, with an ease that suggested they had done this many times before.

"Ungrateful," Kuroo muttered as he shoveled broccolis and carrots into his mouth. "People are starving out there, you know? And vegetables are supposed to be good for you."

"I eat all your fish," Kenma pointed out, untying the yellow and pink fabric around Kuroo's lunchbox. He opened it and grimaced. "Cabbage," he grumbled, picking them out with his chopsticks.

"They're good," Kuroo emphasized the last word, sounding offended by Kenma's disgust for the veggies. All the same, he leaned over and took the cabbage into his mouth. The dark-haired teen returned to his - Kenma's, whatever - meal, pausing after a bite. "Rika-san really needs to stop putting salmon."

"It's my lunch in the first place." And as though to prove it, Kenma lifted the salmon and placed it in the box he was holding.

"Feh." Kuroo said no more, and they both returned to picking out bits of their lunches and swapping them.

The team stared. Hard. Again.

"Holy shit."

"Yamamoto..."

Sigh. "How many times does this make it?"

"Dunno, I'M not counting."

"But he was actually right, you know..."

()()()()()()()()()()

Things of that sort happened many times over the course of the year, and the stares and gaping mouths lessened before eventually disappearing. Or at least, they did until the next year began and new first years arrived.

"Ya-hoo! My first training camp!"

Yamamoto eyed the bouncing first year and self-proclaimed ace with distinct annoyance. "Oi, pipe down, will ya? Some of us are actually trying to sleep."

"It's nine, senpai," Lev returned easily. "Way too early for sleeping."

"But not when we have to wake up at 6 tomorrow," Yaku pointed out as he padded past with a bundle of blankets in his arms. "Here, help me pass these out."

"But Yaku-san - "

"Haiba, that wasn't a request." The sentence was accompanied by a flat stare that unnerved the half Russian.

"... Got it." The first year wondered at the strange sensation he felt, often associated with times when dealing with his mother.

The rest of the team rolled out the futons, and it was only when they were done that Kuroo and Kenma entered, having showered last. No one commented on the oversized shirt Kenma was wearing, and warning glances were shot at the first years before they even opened their mouths. Kuroo's bright yellow sponge-printed socks were also ignored.

"Oh, that was fast," Kuroo commented offhandedly, flopping down onto a futon near the wall. No thanks were uttered, but that was to be expected.

Kenma followed his childhood friend's lead and settled at the foot of the futon, phone screen bright and flashing as he continuously tapped at it.

It was then that Lev realized something. "Hey, Yaku-san," He called out. "We're missing a futon."

Inuoka looked up from where he was rummaging through his bag. "Eh? No way! They gave us the amount we asked for; I checked!"

Yaku, however, appeared unruffled as he sweeped his gaze around the room, mentally counting their numbers and bedrolls. "No," he announced after he was done. "We've got them all."

"But - " Yaku's stare bore into Lev again, but the first year finished his sentence. "Kenma-san doesn't have one!"

"Kenma?" Yaku blinked, breaking the strange hold his gaze held. "Aah, I just didn't bother."

All of the first years looked confused, but the senpai's only shook their heads.

"You'll see, you'll see," Kai said, flapping a hand at them. He shot a discreet glance towards their captain and setter, both of whom appeared to be in their own world.

("Hey, I told you to jump there!"

"That's suicide," Kenma said flatly. "Didn't you see the spikes down there? I would've died."

Kuroo sniffed. "Not with your ridiculous luck. I swear, you haven't died in a single game since middle school."

"That's impossible, and you're not always around whenever I'm playing."

"No, but damn close.")

And the first years did see, quite clearly, when the time came for them to hit the bunk. Some of them had already passed out, limbs sprawled inelegantly across their bedding - Inuoka was one of them - but a few and most of the seniors were still awake.

"Kenma, lights off!" Yaku called out.

Kenma only nodded absentmindedly, fingers still tapping. In the relative darkness, his bright screen cast a bluish light on his face and reflected in his eyes. "Just a moment."

Yaku put his hands on his hips - an action not to be missed even with impaired eyesight - and looked ready to go into full-on mother hen mode, but Kuroo cut in before he could.

"Kenma!" This time, Kenma lifted his head, though his fingers remained in motion. "We have a match tomorrow, you're not staying up."

If they hadn't known any better, the first years would've thought that the expression on Kenma's face was a pout, but Kenma didn't pout - or make any other expression, really - so they dismissed the notion.

"... Okay." Kenma shed the jacket he had been wearing over his shirt, connected his phone to the charger he'd placed nearby - and crawled right into Kuroo's futon.

Ignoring the incomprehensible gibberish coming out of Lev's mouth, Kuroo settled with an arm pillowing his head and patted the lump next to him with his other. "Hurry up and sleep."

No reply came from the lump, but the top part of it moved in a way that resembled a nod. That satisfied Kuroo, who closed his eyes with his arm still around Kenma, only opening them again to look at the first years. "What? You guys get to bed too."

They scrambled to follow his order, and Kuroo fell asleep like he had ever since he was young - with Kenma right next to him.


End file.
